The girls were giddy. Positively bouncing off the walls all freaking day. Ella’s been asking for days “Is today the day that we go out after naps in the middle of the night and get candy?” Amelia just sensed the excitement I think. She wasn’t so sure when we started out but, by the end of the night, she was barreling through hoardes of elementary school kids to get her fair share. And always managed a sweet “thank you.”
The girls in their homemade costumes. They are going to hate me someday.
Cute as buttons, I know. But check this. Say trick or treat…
Check out the look on Ella’s face. That’s the look of total high fructose corn syrup madness. (Not to jump on that bandwagon but seriously, that stuff can’t be all the good for a kid.) (And just about everything that the littles eat is crammed with it) (And powdered cheese)
All in all, it was a good night. It’s been a reasonable week. And, other than my more than fantastic haircut (and head massage with yummy Aveda products) it’s been unremarkable and decidedly un-bloggable. Thus the quiet week on the old interwebs.
One year ago, November 1st, I started “journaling” on a message board that I have posted to since right before Amelia was born. I posted to my journal daily almost until March when I started this blog. It was supportive and password protected and safe. I knew that my mother wouldn’t stumble on it looking up the weather or anything. And now, here I am, 300+ posts later.
I need to remember why I am doing this. I need to not think about the “audience” on the other side of the screen. This was started for me and it’s still for me mostly. I crack myself up and I love seeing it in black and white. I can also make myself cry. And sort things out. And put things into perspective. I try out new ideas that are just theories. I muse over pipe dreams and dissect my reality.
Not that I don’t appreciate the comments or anything. I have yet to come across a troll and that’s a good thing. I think the whole “widow” thing scares some people. Nobody knows what to say but figures that they had better be nice. I get that alot. I wish I didn’t but I do have to say that it does make life a little bit easier. I get to have a chip on my shoulder some days and nobody seems to mind. Not that I would ever abuse it.
I was thinking today about Halloween a year ago. I went through the motions. Made good and happy for the kids. Dead inside. No spirit at all. Wal-fart costumes. I could have cared less. But today was decidedly better. Even though it’s the first repeat holiday without him. The first holiday of the “season”. This? Is going to get ugly I fear. I hope I’m wrong. But I have this sinking feeling that the second year is worse than the first. It was with Will…I remember that. Everyone else has gone on, people forget. Think that just because I’m good at faking it that everything is okay and we must be fine.
I hope I’m wrong. Please prove me wrong.